Wednesday 09th June 1999 - Day five, Croyde - Braunton. Prev Next

I woke up at a few minutes to six, what a lie in! I had left everything unpacked the night before so I could rearrange and repack this morning. I tried the showers which were clean and hot, and large enough to keep one end dry for dressing which was good. I had a good long shower, I wanted to get my £7.50 worth.

By just after seven o'clock I was packed and off up Jones' Hill to pick up the path again. The sky was mostly clear as the sun rose and I crossed into a field to see a herd of cows and one very large big black cow with horns, in fact it was a bull. Carefully I walked around the extreme edge of the field and tested the fence to see just how strong it was in case of emergency. Fortunately they all stayed lying down. The path crossed the field but it wasn't totally obvious which way although I kept going and eventually saw the exit in a far corner. A few hundred yards on was a stile into National Trust property Baggy Point. I took the opportunity to stop and have the first snack of the day, and put some moleskin on the blister on my left little toe. It made an incredible difference.

At the end of Baggy Point the island of Lundy came into view as close as it was going to get. Down the other side was the other Trust entrance with a plaque indicating that Baggy Point inspired Henry Williamson in his writing (1895-1977). Crossing Croyde Bay was via the beach which was very hard going. There were three beach ball/volley ball nets up but no-one was using them.

Later the path joined the road to Saunton Sands, luckily I spotted the coast path was through a gap up the hillside from the road and got onto it, otherwise it was a walk on the busy road with a wall at the side so there was no escape. A couple just ahead of me hadn't seen the gap and had to walk on the road; there wasn't much room. From the path I could see over the miles of extensive sand and dunes, and I was going to have to walk it. The sun burned down, it was going to be clear and hot all day.

On the Saunton sands beach (once I had followed the signs around the hotel and admired the mess the chap was making of painting the tennis court) I found the beach shops. I charged myself up with a couple of cans and a Solero ice lolly. I wasn't wholly convinced of how good my sun cream was considering the strength of the sun so I bought a bottle of protection factor twenty and spread it on liberally. I smelled like a coconut. I had to go down the main road first to circumnavigate the golf club then it was a bridleway between some of the tees.

I was still baking under the sun so I put my full sleeve top on, and put my t-shirt over my head which may have looked a bit on the stupid side but it felt much better. I must add floppy hat to my inventory. Somewhere down the bridleway the coast path followed a second off to the left. This went outside the golf course and eventually into some woody/thicket bits which gave some relief from the sun. Then two things happened which gave me a clue that I was getting near civilisation. Mountain bike tracks were in the dried mud and the unmistakeable smell of dogs doings baking in the sun filled the air. I was right about some sort of civilisation, it was a car park for the nature reserve I was in, but its access was off the road I had just left. I still wasn't half way.

A sign said the dunes were six miles long by two miles wide held together mostly by haddon grass and were a wonderful refuge for many kinds of wildlife. Rabbits used to be the most common before myxamatosis in 1945. The path continued into an army training area to be avoided if the red flag was flying, but it wasn't. The sign also warned not to touch any metal object which might be a live missile and could explode and kill you. I didn't see any metal objects which looked as though they needed a good kicking.

The path continued on and on, I had to negotiate a series of wide puddles before I finally met a couple coming the other way looking ready for a picnic. The hot weather and conditions were anything but a picnic. After another half a mile or so I came to a car park, and I had gone through the sands. It had taken one and a half hours of solid walking.

The car park was the turning point to go back up the other side of the peninsula. There the path followed a dyke built to keep the fields of sheep from flooding. There were a couple of fishermen and an extremly fit chap running in the other direction. I guessed he was a military guy which gave me a clue as to the type of airport ahead. In it I could see three yellow Sea King search and rescue helicopters.

The dyke turned and turned again and joined up with the road to the car park I left a little while ago. Shortly afterwards after passing a factory effluent discharge making the water foamy, and a water/flood control I came to the Braunton to Barnstaple cycle/walk way which the coast path followed. No food shops to be seen. I started towards Barnstaple, then checked the map and walked back into Braunton. Braunton is a pleasant village in danger of becoming a town. It was the biggest place I had seen all day. My quest for a greasy spoon failed again as the only near possibilities of fish & chips, or pizza were closed. I walked past a bakery then back tracked because the danish pasties looked so good. As did the lardy cake. And the enormous cornish pastie.

I ate the lardy cake and pastie whilst sitting under the tree in the centre and watched the world go by. Then I visited the newsagent for a milk shake and a Tango and returned to under the tree. Finally I wrote my log still sitting under the tree. I had to move to the sun on the opposite side of the road because the wind was so cold, then back into the shade because my face started to feel like it had had too much sun. Once I was up to date I put my back pack on again and staggered on painful legs in the direction of the campsite.

The tendon on the back of my right leg was painful so it was slow careful progress on the cycle track towards Barnstaple. As I walked I came upon an old railway cottage that was converted into a house, but it still had the old signals, and the platform with the sign in the long garden. Eventually I came to a roundabout with the Chivenor Caravan Park campsite (01271-812217) on the opposite side of the road. The proprietor was a charming chap and it was £5-00 for the night. The ground was a delight to put tent pins into and won't be earning my three broken wrist award like the one in Newquay, the toilet block was clean and the shower was just what I needed.

I set up the tent in stages to allow it to dry out, phoned home and had a celabratory can of Stella shandied down with Sprite. I had a shower and shave, then tried to read the first bit of '500 mile walkies' but it was no good, I just couldn't keep my eyes open.

Next page, Day six, 10th June 99, Braunton - Barnstaple - Exeter - Home.

Previous page, Day four, 08th June 1999, Combe Martin - Croyde.

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